Vox Mandark
by Vindaloo
Summary: Mandark finds out that he is needed in this world more than he thought...(chapter three, part one is up.)
1. Default Chapter

Vox Mandark (The voice of Mandark)

I do not own Dexter's Laboratory, but I do wish it was returned to it's former self,like season one and two.

Only one can wish for the reserruction of the death of one of America's most loved cartoons of the nineties. We salute you Dexter.

O.K..... on with the story.

How does it feel to be one of the beautiful people? To be loved and known and worshipped like some kind of saint or goddess? To be respected like one of the greats? I always wanted people to force that energy on me, and I shall obtain it in any way possible.

These were the thoughts of a raven-haired child, most likely at the age of ten, as he pondered while looking at the world from out of a school bus window. This child was lanky, thin from his vegetarian diet - one thing he thought in his life to be bittersweet- and conformed the typical stereotype of the well-renouned nerd with his dark-rimmed glasses, butchered haircut, mismatched apparel, and his seclusion from anything social. The nerd stereotype would be dead on if he carried the perfect name of the geek: Dexter.

That was not to be. This child had no such name to be blessed with, the arpatheon of scientists renouned. Not at all.

His name is Mandark Astronominov, and the name Dexter falls suit to him in the same catagory like Satan.

How he loathed that stereotype forced upon him. Sure he hated 'four eyes', 'smarty','geek','nerd', and even some of the stronger words like 'faggot', and 'pussy.'

But the one he despised the most was 'poindexter'.

Poindexter. Take away the first four letters, and you get Dexter.

Dexter. He haunts him like a bad song, getting stuck in your head, and the speak of such of a thing makes it a disgrace to the whole catagory it falls in, like conservatives did to the Republican Party, or Yoko Ono did to the history of music.

"Mental note," Mandark thought, "When and if I do take control of the world, the first one to die on my list shall be Yoko Ono. Nay, better yet, I shall torture her endlessly by making her listen to her own singing."

But enough about old cuckolds married to the only hope for humanity.

Mandark looked back and saw the devil himself, with one of his friends.

The small fiery-haired boy was looking down on a piece of paper, his similar black-rimmed glasses hiding the structure of his Scottish eyes. He took a violet glove-covered finger and pointed to something and laughed.

"With that equasion, Douglas, you have proven that we don't exist!"

That gravely feminine deep tone flared hatred into Astronominov.

"Perhaps I don't like him because he has friends....."

Mandark licked his lips.

"Well, one friend actually. I'm not that far behind."

The lanky boy focused his attention again to the window, trying to drown out the chatter and laughter of the children. They seemed happy, so why was his life such a living hell? Was it that he was smarter than the average child?

Dexter's nasal laughter rung through his ears.

"Yes." Mandark gritted out deeply.

Deep and intense in thought, the young mad scientist plotted a way to downfall the ranks of everyone else, and rise his standards.

Just as he was about to get it, he felt a dull blow upon his black crown, and saw those exact pair of glasses like his fall downward to rest in the faux leather seat.

"HEY, YOOOOOOOU!"

European tone......Dexter. Something happened.

"This oughta be good." Mandark huffed, as he turned around to see the entertainment of his worst rival face off with an even more hated bully.

The small boy raised a fist in a threatening manner, light shining off of the purple rubber.

Mandark decided to be a patron once, and tapped the scientist on the shoulder. As soon as his finger contacted with the white lab coat, the older male turned around, and frowned, barely able to see.

"What is it! Can't you see I have to crush this ignoramous?!"

"Well gee Dexter, I don't think you will get THAT far without your glasses."

Mandark snorted out jauntily, thrusting the glasses into the other's hands.

Doe eyes looked at the blurred figure up and down, green iris' thinning out, and pupils darkening. The small boy took the accepted return of his visionary apparatus, and placed it back on it's proper place.

"Hey.....thanks! You are almost as smart as me!" Dexter snorted, a compliment and an insult rolled in one.

"Ouch." Mandark laughed, and narrowed his eyes.

By then, Dexter's friend, Mordechai, was also threatening the large fifth-grader. Sharp complex words spawned from his nasal accent.

"You won't get that far with your prudish ways! Dexter is a master genius, and can destroy you with his plasmatic microteleport! He can zap you to infra-stellar worlds unknown to mankind!"

This evoked the laughter of the socials, and embarassed the small scientist, who showed his disgust by covering his face with his hand, and muttering under his breath.

"Goddamn you Douglas. It's bad enough that I am unpopular..."

Mandark stifled a laugh so that he would not interrupt Dexter's rage, and then have him turn around and focus it on him.

The bully gaffawed, and smacked Dexter in his face, planting a large red handmark across the boy's delicate features.

"Ohhhh......sticking up for your boyfriend, faggot?" the large fifth-grader roared. Such hostile language for an elementary schooler.

As much as he hated Dexter as a rival, NOBODY had the right to touch him in such a manner. Not even he himself would consider of doing such a thing. Perhaps take it out on his robots or his lab, but not on the creatour.

A small rage flared into the lanky scientist, seeing a fellow student in the art of knowing, being bossed around by the common enemy known to nerds. He too felt the pain delt by this foul fifth-grader....

Mandark then cowered, leaving Dexter to fight the child on his own.

"I cannot do this! I am MANDARK! Evil boy genius! I have a repitation to uphold, and a grudge against that laboratory destructour!"

He curls up in his seat, crossed between confusion and anger. This primal feeling left not only Dexter hopless, but him too to his actions. Part of him would never live this down.

He slowly grabs the edge of the seat with his fingertips, dirty pleather contacting with his tan skin, and looks over the edge, hiding, yet curious.

Dexter, shocked, rubs the mark where we was hit, and fixes his glasses. Douglas snarls.

"How dare you do that to my friend!"

Then, a surprise to all, the meek Dexter rises up with a growl, and hits the bully.....unsuccessfully. His gloved fist makes contact with the air, blowing only the free strands of the opressour's sable hair, as his short stature prevented him from being in the beast's range.

The last thing Dexter sees is the paleness of the fist and the mountain-like knuckles, before he is knocked back in return.

A sickening crack echoed through the bus, enlightening the socials with some gruesome viewing pleasure.

Dexter's glasses drop down onto the dirty bus hallway for everyone to see the outcome:

Cracked, shattered glass, and flecks of the male's precious blood.

Mandark saw it and cringed. The glasses he gave his rival earlier now lay upon the floor, shattered like the little boy's soul.

This ignited the fuse.

"You son of a BITCH!"

The younger, taller scientist bellowed out in an enraged nasal tone, and stood up, disregarding the bus rules, and setting a fighter's stance.

Brown eyes curiously fell from the threat to the pathetic heap which was now his rival.

Dexter cried out in pain, a noise Mandark never heard the boy emit, even when he defeated him. Such a foreign noise prodded him further into stretching his sanity, considering a physical fight with someone.

Douglas was in shock, his brunette hair covering the face of the fellow scientist and obstructing the view of the real damage....that was until he moved.

Mandark gasped mentally.

Blood and parts of the shattered lenses were implanted in his cheeks. Tears mixed with plasma ran down and streaked the child's face like some morbid mascara. A large patch of darkening skin surrounded the impact area.

"What are you going to do? Protect that little mick? Yeah...faggot."

The biggot's taunt rung like an alarm bell, and that's all Mandark needed.

The youth slung his brown backpack, and decked the bully clean across the face.

Oh yeah, and the science and math books didn't soften the blow either.

The next thing the socials saw was a former threat of a fifth-grader heaped upon the floor in defeat, and the tall nerd left standing, panting from swinging such a weight.

Mandark couldn't help but smile and laugh internally, but a state of shock covered his external features.

"The ultimate role-reversal." he mused, looking down at the saguine puddle spurting from the boy's nose.

All of the kids seemed thrilled in a shocking upset.

A nerd? Beats up a jock?

All of them seemed enthusiastic about the outcome.....except for the bus driver, who just seemed to notice.

"Hey! How many times do I have to tell you kids NOT TO STAND UP ON THE BUS?!"

Mandark snapped out of his unexpected shock, and took a seat next to the injured boy.

Douglas looked up in awe at the anti-social taking place next to Dexter, mainly of what a courageous thing he never thought someone like him would do, especially for the young injured scientist that was his rival.

"I cannot believe you did that." the pimply Mordechai eeked out, then looked down at the casuality of the bully's wrath.

Dexter gave out small whimpers, and tried to dig the small shards out of his cheeks.

Mandark looked down at they boy and sighed. "Nor can I."

He bats Dexter's gloved hands away from his own scarred cheeks.

"Dexter," he hissed sharply, regaining his irritability of the rival, "you do that, and you are going to make the cuts even deeper."

Dexter growls, realising who was next to him besides Douglas.

"Mandark! Don't you DARE hurt ME! That would be unsophisticated out of a fellow scientist, though I HARDLY doubt you fall in THAT catagory."

Dexter still composed his razor-tongue and caustic attitude even when injured.

Mandark snorts, then digs through his backpack, unzipping a front compartment.

"Dexter! He's only trying to help! He saved you from that bully! Show some gratitude!"

Douglas scolds the scientist, peeved on the outcome of his attitude.

"Help my ass." Dexter grinds out under his breath.

Mandark finds a pair of tweezers, and starts probing the pallid flesh around the glass, and plucks it out. Dexter feeling the cold metal, and not being able to see clearly started to panic, knowing that this was Mandark; whom he always thought that he wanted to kill him, was making this opportunity to finish the job, or even inserting something that will.

"Kill me off, why don't you!" He snarls, awaiting for Mandark to lash pain out on his feeble body.

Douglas furrows his brow and huffs. "Dexter! He is removing the shards of glass! He's NOT trying to kill you."

Mandark sighs, taking out another piece.

By then, the bus driver saw the collapsed biggot in the hallway, and pulled over haistily.

"What happened back here?" she yelled, rushing over to the fallen kid.

"WHO DID THIS?" She barked, making the children cringe.

"Ma'am, this boy is hurt. Ma'am! Hey!" the raven-haired genius screamed out.

However....the startled woman interpeted it as someone admiting to the incident.

"I knew it had to be YOU!" She grabs the scientist by the arm, and pulls him up to the front.

"HEY! DEXTER'S HURT! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

Mandark protested, alongside with Douglas, who pleaded that he was not the perpetratour, and that Dexter needed some serious medical attention.

The childern took sides, and yelled out accusing Mandark of this heinous crime. They didn't care, after all, to them he was inexpendable, and most were friends of the bully.

Mandark did take a blow to the bully, but only in self defense. How could that be a crime?

Mandark shouted out "TAKE THE TWEEZERS, DOUGLAS!" over the ever growing roar of the socials, and internally cried.

The pimply nerd nodded, barely able to make out the boy's words, and contiuned where Astronominov left off.


	2. Punishment of a good deed

VOX MANDARK CHAPTER TWO 

Thanks to all who reviewed the first chapter! I need more reviews to keep my hopes up! (O.K., maybe not, but it doesn't hurt to tell me what you think of this story)  
I haved decreased the rating from an R to PG-13 to attract more readers. I will post the full monty of this story on which will be NC-17, after I complete posting up every chapter. Be patient. I am winging it, and this will be a LONG story, but nonetheless, a very complex one with action, drama, and a twisted plot.  
(BTW, the real version has gore, crude language, and sexual scenes. I will have gore and crude language in this one, but keep it to a minimum)  
I do not own Dexter's Laboratory, but I wish I did. :)

Tick. Tick. Tick.

As enduring as the driping of a faucet, the clock droned in the ears of the anxious raven-haired genius posed under it in a plastic black chair.

It annoyed him, but it was the only sound to keep him from going insane with the unnatural silence within this hall.  
This hall was unnatural to him, now that he came to think about it. He had no need to be in this part of the campus, nor he heeded to be in any of his life, but, life delt him a wild card, and he had to take it.

Dexter was, after protest from him and Douglas, taken to the nearest emergency room when the bus driver finally noticed the small injury.  
Dexter had to get ten stitches across his cheeks, and Douglas was NOT eager to watch, as he fainted when the needle was inserted in the scarred flesh; or so what Mandark heard from behind the closed door to his left hours ago.

As for the bully....he could care less.

Mandark pointed his slightly aqualine nose downward and looked at the checkered vinyl floor that narrowed further down the hall. Quite an acute optical illusion for one of his interests, but none the less, interesting enough for him to curb his boredom.

Grey flecks adorned the interiour of each black or white tile, to give it a well used look.  
Mandark then looked upwards to the ceiling, and noticed the flickering cobwebs around the air vent. Each cobweb danced with every pressure of decreasing cool wind, at which he guessed that these 'webs' were actually made from yearly accumiliations of dust, instead of the suspected animal itself.  
Right across from the cobwebs was a large coffee-like stain on some of the ceiling tiles. No doubting that this was a sign of mold making it's home above the tiles, and living off of the cellulite within.

"Such a complex and adaptive group of microscopic creatures," he mused, looking up at the large stain, "able to be a denizen of anyplace it chooses. It can be a cryophite, thermophile, xerophillic, hydrophillic, or anything in between. Just invades a place and takes it"  
Mandark sighs.  
"And like me, it is not wanted. Very underestimated."

He turns his head away from the fungus, and fixated his eyes down on his Oxford shoes. Noting an untied shoelace, he quickly applies his dexterous fingers to do the work, then reasserts his attention on whatever he can analyze.

Astronominov glared up at the wall in front of him and spotted modest prints of flower paintings that were framed. They were reminicent of a caged animal in a zoo behind glass. "Out for show, pretty to look at, and so many copies to replace it," he thought in his own sence of caustic humour. "Oh, how many simple things can reflect our human culture."

Across from the hollowing echo of the clock, a small clack perked up his ears, and immediately he turned towards it like one of Pavlo's dogs in his experiments.

A thin woman with dark, thick-rimmed glasses like his came down the hallway. She had strawberry hair that flowed almost to her knees that would sashay with every step. Covering her was a robin's egg blue abaya adorned with red and orange arabesque vines stitched into the fabric. Over her breasts dangled a golden Om pendant - symbolizing the Hindu faith - and on her feet were a pair of pleather khaki Berkenstocks; as Mandark always joked about them being the religious symbol of the lesbians.

Next to the woman was a tall man, beautifully built, with midnight hair like his, and a pair of rose-coloured John Lennon glasses across the bridge of his nose.  
He wore a blue-jean jacket with bellbottoms to match, and a green tye-dye shirt. He also wore a golden chained pendant, but, his was of the third eye, one of the very common symbols used on the walls of Tibetian and Nepalese stupas.

Both looked very young for their age, due to their vegetarianism and daily yoga practices.  
Mandark knew, as these people were his parents; Oceanbird and Windbear Astronominov.

Instinctively, the boy slunk in his chair, cowering from the figures who were soon to lay a fierce punishment upon him like the wrath of God.  
All he could do is look up, and smile nervously at the parental figures.

"SUSAN LENNON ASTRONOMINOV"  
The male barked, approaching the scientist.

Mandark narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth.  
"It's Mandark." he whispered under his breath, cursing the name that they bestowed upon him.

"That's it! No tapioca and coconut tofu pudding for you tonight!" Oceanbird scolded as she looked down on the pathetic boy.

As much as he hated some tofu dishes, Mandark indeed loved the dessert she spoke of. Now rice cakes were of the devil, in fact, they were an abomination to humankind. In fact, Mandark was so sure that they served them in Hell alongside with a T.V. consisting of only The Weather Channel, and UPN.

An older man opens the door from his left and ushers the parents inside with a deep, oily, voice.  
"Ah! You must be Mandark's parents! Please! Come inside."

"Mandark? Noooo, no. You must be mistaken. That boy over there is called Susan." Windbear objected, deaf to his son's recollection of being called 'Mandark'.

"It says here 'Mandark L. Astronominov'." the older man looks down on the manilla folder he was holding. "You ARE Mr. and Mrs. Astronominov, correct?" he looks up over his glasses, but all the boy could see was a silloette of the principal from the frosted door window.

"Yes." both parents answer.

"I guess that he is just trying to be himself!" Oceanbird laughed, causing chuckles from both men.

"Please! Come inside, and we'll discuss Mandark's incident on the bus."

Incident. On the bus.  
The skinny male shuddered at the recollection of events that happened earlier.  
Dexter screaming. Douglas's look of shock. The bully's taunts. The jeering of the pupils.  
But what stuck out in his mind was his spontainous action to club the biggot with his backpack.  
Not only for him.....but for Dexter.  
Dexter. The rival scientist whom he hated.  
But why?

Mandark heaved a sigh and placed the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb in distressed thought.

The headmaster shook each parent's hand, while they addressed their name to them. And with all formal greetings done, they cut to the chase.

"Oceanbird, Windbear. As you may know, your little boy is a genius. One of the top here at Huber elementary, in fact! That's why he surprised me with what he did earlier today"  
Both parents nod their head in agreement.  
The principal then leans forward, folds his hands, and interlaces his fingers.

"Now what I recall, not only from my memory, but from his record, he has been such a shy, quiet student. All perfect A plusses in his gifted classes, very constructive during his free time. He seems to be in his own world sometimes, and that's what scares me."

"I don't remember him bringing over any friends, except a small redheaded boy with a lab coat and purple gloves," Oceanbird delicately mused out loud to the headmaster, "Dexter was his name...I think."

"Uh, huh. Absolutely," Windbear added with a slight British accent, "And what a nice lad he was too. Always polite. I dunno why Susan only brought him over once. Even Olga liked him."

"This Dexter you speak of, seems to fit the description of the child that was injured on the bus earlier this afternoon"  
The headmaster swivels around in his large leather chair, and opens up the file cabnet, and pulls out another manilla folder. He turns around and plops the file on the desk, making a heavy thud.

"Is this him?" He pulls out a picture of the husky boy.

"Yes! Definately!" both parents agreed, nodding their heads.

"This is Dexter Eugene McPhearson. He also is in the same classes as Mandark, and to my note, rides the same bus with him, which brings us back to why we are here"  
He pauses in his droning, and continues.  
"Many eyewitnesses said that your son gave a fifth-grader named Gene Slovaski a concussion, and some even say that he punched Dexter McPhearson in the face, causing his glasses to shatter in which he now has ten stitches."

"Oh god...." Windbear sighed, placing his face in his hand.  
"Why would our son stoop so low to attack such innocent children? We always taught him that violence isn't the answer, unless it was for self-defence." The mother cooed, then place a reassuring hand on her husband's back.

"Now, don't jump to any conclusions Mr. and Mrs. Astronominov. I do NOT believe the latter accusiations of him punching Dexter. Not only because of the records of Mr. Slovaski, who does have a repitation of being a troublemaker, but also by the protests of two boys, one which is Dexter McPhearson himself."

The headmaster blinked, and sat straight back upwards.  
"But, your son will not go scott free, as the bus driver even identified him as the one who hit Mr. Slovaski. She even said that he confessed to it."

Both parents groaned.  
The headmaster pulled out a yellow sticky note and jabbed it with the pen in his left hand, scribbling down information.  
"Now, Mandark must see the guidence councilour with these requirements every Tuesday after school for a year, or until needed. The appointments shall last until 5:30 P.M"  
The man hands the note over to Windbear, and the young father accepts it.  
"One of you will be able to pick him up, right?"

"I will, since I am a househusband only for four days a week." Windbear replies, folding the note, and pocketing it in the jacket.

"What type of counciling is it?" Oceanbird questioned.

"Mandark will be counciled with the school psychologist for half of the year, then will be moved into a group counciling program where he can interact with others his age and with people that have the same problems like he has. It would be advised for him to make friends, otherwise, he will grow up depressed, roudy, secluded, and might try to commit suicide. I want no more outbursts like this from your son, and I am sure you don't either."

Both parents nodded.

"Also, I will suspend him from school for two weeks, but during those two Tuesdays, I want him to be here for counciling, understood?"

"Yes sir. He'll be there. We'll make sure of that." Oceanbird firmly barked.


	3. Retalliation from the shadows

**VOX MANDARK**

Chapter Three

As you should know, I do not own Dexter's Lab....yadda, yadda, yadda, and so forth.

As for the people who reviewed, thanks! I love comments! Tell your friends, your pets, your family, your co-workers, your slaves! And now....for the story......

RIGHT AFTER THIS SENTENCE!

The deafining silence accompanied the interiour of the psychedelic Volkswagon on it's journey back to the Astronominov house.

Mandark sulked in the back seat, stairing absently out of the window, like he did on the bus earlier that day.

Earthen eyes grazed the firey field of a Californian sunset that spread out for miles.

In the departure of the bus's wake, a dark trail followed in the sky like the shadow of the sun, announcing the arrival of another night.

Trees were bathed in the dusk's Midas touch, making each leaf as golden as an ornament from a legendary Inca treasure hoarde.

Each mountain peak reached into the atmosphere like fingertips from a hand of the earth below them.

Mandark scrutinized each detail of nature's bounty with his gazing eyes, but his mind was far off from any thoughts of the scenery.

"Well, it looks like, once again, the people around you fail to recognize your good deeds, and punish you for being yourself. No wonder I am at the bottom of the pecking order in this event called life."

The boy ceases in his musing, and looks up at the back of his parent's heads.

"Why am I hated so? This world needs me to assert my intelligence on it's inferiour primitive ways."

He reasserts his once abandoned position of looking out of the window.

Minutes later, the Volkswagon pulls up in the driveway of the Astronominov residence, discontinuing it's need for a destination.

The engine is killed by the flick of the ignition key, and Oceanbird and Windbear unbuckle themselves, and open the doors outward to the world.

Their son follows suit, as he picks up his heavy brown backpack; the one which he used in self-defense; and slid out of the vinyl green seat. He climbs out from the back and closes the door, locking it with a click.

His senna Oxfords resonate a dull click on the concrete, as he makes his way up the sidewalk around the uncut lawn. Untamed grass endings tickle the scientist's bare legs as he rounds the corner, and opens the door previously unlocked by his parents.

The scent of myrrh and nag champa overwhelms his olfactory bulb as he steps foot in the house.

A well-worn small Mexican striped rug greets his shoes underneath him, as he turns and closes the teek door with a slam, setting off the myriads of bells and chimes on the knob and above the doorframe. Their soft metallic clinking and melodic ringing welcome the thin male inside.

Mandark tends to ignore it, and proceeds to untie and leave his shoes and socks in the hallway next to the other discarded footwear that had settled there.

He looks up after hearing footsteps approach, and finds a small girl inches away from him.

Like an obediant puppy, she always greets him, but not in the most gingerly way as one would expect from such a small child. This girl balls up her fist and launches it into Mandark's arm, elicting a nasal pained groan from the target.

"Heh, heh, heh, Susan's in trouble! You're gonna get it now!" The small girl spoke with a bored nasal tone, ivory smile stretching from cheek to cheek, as her eyes bore fear into the taller male like a daemon's.

And why shouldn't they? After all, she was his older sister Olga, despite her knee sized height like his intelligent rival, but a bit taller.

Oh, and a lot meaner too.

"Olga! Damn you!" Mandark squeeked, choosing the wrong words to speak to such a feared lady.

With a swipe of her deft hand, his sister immediantly brought him down to his knees, and seized his collar within her closed fist. For such a stout girl, she was stronger than any boy her or his age.

"WHAT'S MY NAME?" She huffed, face to face with a fearful Mandark, the scent of lavender flavoured candy waifed by his nose, one of Olga's favourite.

"La....La...Lalavava." He gulped out, his own shirt starting to constrict his throat.

Olga played a nasty smile on her features, then flicked his nose with the sound of a fillip, leaving a nasty sting on the victim's tip, at which he winced through his glasses.

Her graiting chuckle mocked him as it rung through his head, then for good measure, she dropped him, and scampered away, possibly to show her parents how such a good little angel she was.

Mandark soon collected himself up off the floor, grabbed his backpack, and ran upstairs to avoid anymore contact with that daughter of Satan.

He slammed the door behind him, and locked it, keeping any intruders out.

The young scientist threw the filled bag down on his paisley-print bed, causing it to crepitate under the weight, as he stormed off to his closet.

He glanced around, then moved his clothing over, revealing a speaker.

"3114677895." he spoke casually into the box.

There was a metallic clank, then the whole wall gave away to another room, closing behind the boy as he entered.

Dark obsidian flooring reached outwards to every corner of the laboratory, like an oil slick.

Giant gothic-style nuclear reactors rose out of the floor like some dark volcano, silver pipes outlining it like creeping vines. Machines of every sort, brainchildren of the nerd, littered each nook and cranny. Off in the distance, the crackling and humming of electricity from pylons could be heard. Robots glittered in the sparce light with their new coat of metallic paint, making them look like steel daemons, monsters, and dragons. Supercomputers lined the walls like wallpaper, their beeping and humming constant with the noise of other machines.

Mandark laughed, basking in the awe of his own creation. Every thing in this laboratory was concieved from his brain and own two hands.

In the middle of it all, a large red biohazard symbol with a jagged 'M' in the middle was inlayed into the floor, the perfect insigna for such a mad scientist.

The child thought back to the event earlier that spawned his arrival in this lab post-haste.

"Such a complex and adaptive group of microscopic creatures, able to be a denizen of anyplace it chooses. It can be a cryophite, thermophile, xerophillic, hydrophillic, or anything in between. Just invades a place and takes it. And like me, it is not wanted. Very underestimated"

Just invades a place and takes it. And like me, it is not wanted. Very underestimated.

Just invades a place and takes it. Very underestimated......

VERY UNEXPECTED.

Mandark glees at this thought, and rushes to his computer with an idea, ripe, and ready for the taking.

Hands worked furiously at the keyboard, jotting in code, equasions, and measurements.

"With my robot army, I can invade any place and take it." He looks upward at the monitor, reading the precautions and warnings of a machine before activating it.

"Why haven't I thought of this before? Oh! I can use my old time machine to go back to the past, and invade a society with a primal military!" He strikes the button of his mouse with his finger, and with a beep, he activates the time portal. Far above him, he hears a deep humming, then a loud roaring.

"However, thanks to Dexter for destroying my old lab," he gritted, stepping onto a lift which raised him to another sectour, "My new time machine is not perfect compared to my old one. I created it exactly similar to the original, but, I could not find the paper with the anti-aging physics equasion on it. With high and rapid amounts of radioactive and kinetic energy bombarding my body, I will age slightly without any protection, no matter if I travel forwards or backwards in time. However, my original age shall be frozen in time when I, and if I do return."

With this, he opened the door to the artillary, and picked a couple of weapons of choice.

He hooked a rope with talon like jaws at the end on his belt, then pocketed an atlatl, a sling which Aztecs used to fire spears and other narrow, pointy objects. He then grabbed a large staff, which could form three types of blades with controled plasmatic lazer technology.

Then, gaining access to his protective clothing chamber by a retnal scan, he put on a pair of black buckle up boots with magnets that could be controled at the bottom, a pair of black bellbottoms, to keep him afloat in water, and a large black trenchcoat with a red biohazard symbol on the back, and flame-like markings on the arms and on the bottom hem. The trenchcoat was useful, as it had many pockets for storing various bottled chemicals, ammo, small weapons, and anything else the scientist could think of.

Looping a belt through a holster on the staff, he slung it around onto his back, and then buckled it in the front, giving the elongated weapon a temporary piggyback ride.

Sneering, he returned to the lift, and entered one more floor before he made his way to his final destination.

He entered the robotics chamber, and with a couple of switches flipped on the wall, each robot was activated with an electrical hum.

"ROBOTS! GO TO THE ARTILLARY AND RECIEVE YOUR WEAPON CHOOSEN BY THE COMPUTER! MEET ME AT SECTOUR FOUR, AND GEAR UP TO GO TO THE TIME PORTAL!" Mandark bellowed, partially unable to control his self glee of thinking up such a devious plot.

The male finally made it to the time portal, as the glowing blue light welcomed his presence into the time-space continuuim. Swirls of white energy reflected off of his glasses, making the false impression that his eyes were glowing. The deafening roar of energy sounded like a metallic waterfall. Mandark punched in the year of 1965 on the screen, and finalized it by pressing enter.

There was a buzzing, then as the time-portal adjusted to the new timeframe, the roaring died down with the adjustment of controled energy.

Mandark laughed as he stepped into the threshold of the portal, destined to come back a world leader with respect, even it was gained by fear. In an instant, his laughter stopped, and there was a quick flash. Mandark was no more in this era.

"Olga, would you like to go out with us for pizza?" A deep voice shouted from the kitchen.

The savage young girl jumped up from the couch, abandoning her television program with a push of the remote, and ran outside to the vehicle, shouting an excited "Yes" to her parents.

"I dunno, Windbear, if it is good to leave Susan home alone like this." Oceanbird croaked, walking out of the door while she adjusted an earring.

"Don't fret, Bess, he'll be fine. Besides, he needs a firm punishment.In fact, he might be reading right now. Let's not disturb him." the father answered, locking the door behind him and his family.

The mother sighed, then got in, buckling herself up. "Well.....if you say so."

Windbear put a conjoling arm around his wife and gave her a kiss; with Olga groaning at the sight; then looked back for any oncoming cars and backed the bus out of the driveway and left.

Minutes later, the robots gathered up infront of the time portal, ready to enter like their organic master. However, unlike Mandark, they did not have common sence, and one shot off a lazer within the crowd, causing the others to panic and flee in all directions. By then all weapons were going off at the hands of the robots, destroying machines, spilling chemicals, erupting fires, and ravaging years of hard work. One shot a large metal pipe that transferred steam out of the lab. It eventually toppled ontop of the time-portal machine, destroying it. The energy from the open portal became chaotic, and unbalanced, like a split atom, and then with a white flash......

...the laboratory was no more.

And so was the house.

Mandark was violently tossed out of the portal upon the ground.

As he looked up, he saw that he was not in the past........

.....he was in the future.


End file.
